Never Let This Go
I Don't Want To Be Alone...
5 Months Later
Dear Diary,
Well, Frank and I are living together again. Surprised? Well I say together; it’s with the rest of the band. Currently My Chem are on tour, and I’m tagging along until I can’t anymore. To be honest, getting around a cramped tour bus and growing bigger by the minute is no mean feat. We bought an apartment before they started touring again, but it’s pretty empty at the moment. The comments concerning my relationship to Frank have become a rare and the guys are all pretty great. Well I’m sitting on the couch in the front of the bus writing this, and everyone’s getting ready for tonight’s show. It starts in 10 minutes, and so far, Franks stayed sober since the morning he turned up on the driveway of my mum house. Well, I can’t write more; I’m watching from backstage tonight. Hey, its kind of like my first ever show again. Except… You know. More pregnant. Okay, we’re leaving and tomorrows the last show on tour. After that, Frank and I are setting up the apartment. It’s gonna be busy.
______________________________________________________________
“Well I don’t know how it works, Frankie!” I tugged a box through the doorway. An echoed reply filtered up the stairs.
“Hang on, there’s something written here-”
I stood there, bewildered until a few seconds later, the elevator doors in front of me slid open. A flustered-looking Frank was standing surrounded by boxes in the white glow of the elevator.
“Well... I found the 3rd floor button.” And he tripped out of the elevator and marched through the door of our new apartment. I stifled a laugh and picked up another box. Damn, was it heavy. I grabbed the bottom corners and steadied myself. I’d just managed to stand up straight, when Frank walked back through the door.
“Hey, Hey, What you doing girly? This one weighs a ton...” he said, taking it easily from me. ‘It can’t have been that heavy’ I told myself, frustrated. He held it easily in the crook of one arm. He’s short, but weirdly stronger than he looks. “Can’t have any thing strenuous on you or the bump” he said proudly. Smiling, he gave a small pat on my stomach with his free hand, and then picked up another box.
I rolled my eyes and sighed, moving over and lifting one of the smaller boxes of clothes. Okay. I’ll admit it was harder to crouch low enough. The bump had pretty much just started to show and as I struggled to stand up, I caught a glance of myself in the reflective metal elevator door. My face was flushed, panting and slowly paling. Oh God. I shuffled into the apartment and slammed the box down on the nearest flat surface.
“Didn’t you get to the bathroom?” Frank asked tentatively.
“No, Frank. I did not.” I snapped grumpily “Unless you wanted me to throw up all over you, I had no choice.” I busied my self with cleaning up the kitchen sink.
“I’ll definitely never be able to look at that sink in the same way again…” Frank said thoughtfully, putting his hands on his hips. I turned slowly and glared at him. He caught my eye and jumped. “I’ll go and c- carry on unpacking then." He grinned and rushed off.
________________________________________________________________
One Week Later
I wandered aimlessly around the store. Electronic beeps were emitted annoyingly from the tills and the over polished floor squeaked under my shoes. Staring up at the shelves, I was completely confused and completely out of my depth. What does a baby need exactly? Are all the brightly coloured plastic toys, tables and chairs necessary? I gave an exhausted sniff.
“Do you have any idea of what we need? ‘Cause I fucking haven’t got a clue...” Franks voice whispered panicky in my ear. It all seemed so ridiculous and overwhelming. Me and Frank standing in the middle of a baby store, as if it was a different planet. I began to think it was a different planet when a woman who looked younger than me came bounding up the aisle towards us. I moved closer to Frank and gave him a worried look.
“Can I help you?” She practically screamed at us, her smile fixed. “First time is it?” She gave us no time to answer. “How lovely!”
An hour later Frank and I found ourselves steered out of the store, laden with bags packed full of useless crap that the shop assistant convinced us we’d need. I don't know; maybe we just both have one of those faces which scream Please, Con Me Out Of My Money.
2 Months Later
God. I feel awful. Everything’s stressing me out, and I can’t do anything for myself because I’m so knackered. Bump is pretty large now, and I’m just frustrated because I’m not at work, and I’ve not got anything much to do but wait. I’ve been arguing with Frank about stupid little things which usually wouldn’t bother me.
“I’m not sitting around anymore! I want to actually live, not shut up in here.”
“I’ve never told you you had to just sit around; you aren’t confined to the apartment, Abby. Whenever I ask you if you want to come out you say you’re just too tired...” Frank reasoned. He looked stressed and disappointed with my completely irrational behaviour.
“Well I am tired; you don’t know what it’s like to be pregnant. You’re a man; it’s not your job to understand…” I shouted immaturely across the room. I slumped into the sofa and crossed my arms, fuming. Frank walked across the room and his face broke into a small grin. Seeing his face for some reason made me crack up and I giggled silently so he wouldn’t see. He sat and draped his arm around me, looking into my eyes.
I stood up suddenly and turned to face him, jerking my arms down straight to my sides. I tried to keep my face as a frown, trying to avoid Frank knowing for sure I wasn’t really serious with my argument. I kept my face as straight as I could.
Too hard. My face broke into a smile and I giggled sheepishly. I put my hands in my pockets and stood giggling, my shoulders shaking. I took a deep breath and attempted to calm myself down.
"You know, I really don't like sitting arou-"
Then a pain. I crumpled and knelt on the carpet, my head bowed. I felt as if I had been stabbed, and I felt a hot rush of liquid. I opened my eyes and saw the red seeping across the floor. Frank by my side, a terrified look on his face. He had his cell open and against his ear already. I slumped against him, and he kissed the top of my head whilst he muttered “Ambulance” into his cell. A few fat tears tumbled down my pale cheeks and I passed out a few minutes later, staring at the blood pooling at my feet.
Dear Diary,
Well, Frank and I are living together again. Surprised? Well I say together; it’s with the rest of the band. Currently My Chem are on tour, and I’m tagging along until I can’t anymore. To be honest, getting around a cramped tour bus and growing bigger by the minute is no mean feat. We bought an apartment before they started touring again, but it’s pretty empty at the moment. The comments concerning my relationship to Frank have become a rare and the guys are all pretty great. Well I’m sitting on the couch in the front of the bus writing this, and everyone’s getting ready for tonight’s show. It starts in 10 minutes, and so far, Franks stayed sober since the morning he turned up on the driveway of my mum house. Well, I can’t write more; I’m watching from backstage tonight. Hey, its kind of like my first ever show again. Except… You know. More pregnant. Okay, we’re leaving and tomorrows the last show on tour. After that, Frank and I are setting up the apartment. It’s gonna be busy.
______________________________________________________________
“Well I don’t know how it works, Frankie!” I tugged a box through the doorway. An echoed reply filtered up the stairs.
“Hang on, there’s something written here-”
I stood there, bewildered until a few seconds later, the elevator doors in front of me slid open. A flustered-looking Frank was standing surrounded by boxes in the white glow of the elevator.
“Well... I found the 3rd floor button.” And he tripped out of the elevator and marched through the door of our new apartment. I stifled a laugh and picked up another box. Damn, was it heavy. I grabbed the bottom corners and steadied myself. I’d just managed to stand up straight, when Frank walked back through the door.
“Hey, Hey, What you doing girly? This one weighs a ton...” he said, taking it easily from me. ‘It can’t have been that heavy’ I told myself, frustrated. He held it easily in the crook of one arm. He’s short, but weirdly stronger than he looks. “Can’t have any thing strenuous on you or the bump” he said proudly. Smiling, he gave a small pat on my stomach with his free hand, and then picked up another box.
I rolled my eyes and sighed, moving over and lifting one of the smaller boxes of clothes. Okay. I’ll admit it was harder to crouch low enough. The bump had pretty much just started to show and as I struggled to stand up, I caught a glance of myself in the reflective metal elevator door. My face was flushed, panting and slowly paling. Oh God. I shuffled into the apartment and slammed the box down on the nearest flat surface.
“Didn’t you get to the bathroom?” Frank asked tentatively.
“No, Frank. I did not.” I snapped grumpily “Unless you wanted me to throw up all over you, I had no choice.” I busied my self with cleaning up the kitchen sink.
“I’ll definitely never be able to look at that sink in the same way again…” Frank said thoughtfully, putting his hands on his hips. I turned slowly and glared at him. He caught my eye and jumped. “I’ll go and c- carry on unpacking then." He grinned and rushed off.
________________________________________________________________
One Week Later
I wandered aimlessly around the store. Electronic beeps were emitted annoyingly from the tills and the over polished floor squeaked under my shoes. Staring up at the shelves, I was completely confused and completely out of my depth. What does a baby need exactly? Are all the brightly coloured plastic toys, tables and chairs necessary? I gave an exhausted sniff.
“Do you have any idea of what we need? ‘Cause I fucking haven’t got a clue...” Franks voice whispered panicky in my ear. It all seemed so ridiculous and overwhelming. Me and Frank standing in the middle of a baby store, as if it was a different planet. I began to think it was a different planet when a woman who looked younger than me came bounding up the aisle towards us. I moved closer to Frank and gave him a worried look.
“Can I help you?” She practically screamed at us, her smile fixed. “First time is it?” She gave us no time to answer. “How lovely!”
An hour later Frank and I found ourselves steered out of the store, laden with bags packed full of useless crap that the shop assistant convinced us we’d need. I don't know; maybe we just both have one of those faces which scream Please, Con Me Out Of My Money.
2 Months Later
God. I feel awful. Everything’s stressing me out, and I can’t do anything for myself because I’m so knackered. Bump is pretty large now, and I’m just frustrated because I’m not at work, and I’ve not got anything much to do but wait. I’ve been arguing with Frank about stupid little things which usually wouldn’t bother me.
“I’m not sitting around anymore! I want to actually live, not shut up in here.”
“I’ve never told you you had to just sit around; you aren’t confined to the apartment, Abby. Whenever I ask you if you want to come out you say you’re just too tired...” Frank reasoned. He looked stressed and disappointed with my completely irrational behaviour.
“Well I am tired; you don’t know what it’s like to be pregnant. You’re a man; it’s not your job to understand…” I shouted immaturely across the room. I slumped into the sofa and crossed my arms, fuming. Frank walked across the room and his face broke into a small grin. Seeing his face for some reason made me crack up and I giggled silently so he wouldn’t see. He sat and draped his arm around me, looking into my eyes.
I stood up suddenly and turned to face him, jerking my arms down straight to my sides. I tried to keep my face as a frown, trying to avoid Frank knowing for sure I wasn’t really serious with my argument. I kept my face as straight as I could.
Too hard. My face broke into a smile and I giggled sheepishly. I put my hands in my pockets and stood giggling, my shoulders shaking. I took a deep breath and attempted to calm myself down.
"You know, I really don't like sitting arou-"
Then a pain. I crumpled and knelt on the carpet, my head bowed. I felt as if I had been stabbed, and I felt a hot rush of liquid. I opened my eyes and saw the red seeping across the floor. Frank by my side, a terrified look on his face. He had his cell open and against his ear already. I slumped against him, and he kissed the top of my head whilst he muttered “Ambulance” into his cell. A few fat tears tumbled down my pale cheeks and I passed out a few minutes later, staring at the blood pooling at my feet.